Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbing July 3)

After creating two dozen tiny undead rodents and birds - each one took a small fraction of the mana required to animate a human undead - and dispatching two more guardian spirits to defend his women, Tybalt walked back down the hill with Dero, Heimar, and Raybeck.

The necromancer tried to stand tall and proud, but in truth, he was exhausted, dragging himself forward with every step. A bit of energy spent was a small price to pay to make Vidalia, Victoria, and Mariella a little safer, though.

Both Sergeants Remus and Indus had been quicker to agree to serve than Commander Volusia, confirming for Tybalt that the loyalty his fellow soldiers felt toward the Nietian Royal Army and the country it protected was really not much deeper than his own. They had just had less impetus toward betrayal - until now. Until Tybalt made them an offer too compelling to refuse.

Serve or die, permanently this time.

Not a difficult choice, in those terms.

Behind him, Raybeck carried the body that had belonged to the miner, now a completely empty shell. The vessel could not be raised as an undead anymore, since its soul had been consumed completely in the ritual - some part of the soul was necessary for a proper undead - but Tybalt was aware of other uses for the leftovers.

With Fleshcraft, his abilities had reached the stage where spare parts had real value. Making experimental creatures was something every necromancer attempted at some point, though not usually until they reached a high level of proficiency in the class. But Tybalt was ambitious. He wanted - arguably needed - to grow more quickly than was typical.

As they approached the hut, Tybalt saw Mariella and the foxgirls arriving in the distance, too. The sun had almost set, and they looked almost as tired as the necromancer felt after the repeated rituals. But when he waved to them, the three perked up.

“Hey!” called Mariella, waving back.

“Mission accomplished!” yelled Victoria.

“Tomorrow, day after tomorrow, and two days after that!” Vidalia called, lowering her voice slightly as Tybalt stepped even closer and yelling was no longer necessary.

So, that’s how long I have to consider what comes next, Tybalt thought. Fortunately, I’ll have Vidalia beside me tonight.

The necromancer moved onto the path and joined the three women in heading back to the huts. They chattered about how the conversations had gone - the harpies were apparently eager to see him again, the ibex less so, and the foxes divided.

“I conjured spirits to protect the three of you,” Tybalt said after they were done discussing the meeting plans. “I can call them up if you’d like, but I don’t know if you actually want to see the people who attacked the village again when you don’t need to. The important thing is they’re on our side at this point. And if they fail to protect any of you, I’ll destroy their souls. So they have an incentive to succeed. You three should be just a little bit safer now, in case something attacks you more quickly than you could react naturally.”

Victoria gave him a long look at those words, as if she knew it was her who he was most concerned about in this regard. He thought he caught a smile.

They said hello to the children, who were a bit tired by this point but still playing outside, four of them now tracing some kind of board game in the dirt while the other kids watched and the mummies distantly kept an eye on things.

Then the group entered Tybalt’s own hut.

A gentle stir of motion on the bedroll close to the fire confirmed what Tybalt, and probably the others, had been most hopeful for.

Kistana blinked and smiled.

“You five are finally back!” she exclaimed.

“You’re finally properly awake,” Vidalia said with a note of satisfaction.

“I am!” Kistana declared. “I’ve been resting here, and I’m ready to resume my dut- ” She tried to push herself up mid-sentence, mid-word, and immediately dropped back flat on her back and winced. “Ow. Ow. Ow. I - what happened?”

“The alchemist gave strict orders,” Victoria began.

“You’re not to engage in any strenuous activities or even get up and walk around,” Dero finished.

Everyone looked at her.

“What?” she said. “As I’ve already told Tybalt, I can hear pretty much anything happening near me. These aren’t just for show, you know?” She tweaked the tips of her long, handlebar-like ears.

“Right, like Dero said, you have to relax,” Tybalt said while the others were exchanging glances.

Kistana opened her mouth, obviously intent on forming some objection, but the necromancer cut her off.

“You were sick, and it compromised your effectiveness. Are you going to listen to me now about taking proper care of your body? Or keep pushing yourself and die a completely unnecessary death?”

She gritted her teeth, then looked away with a defeated expression.

“Fine. I’ll… I’ll do what you want, Lord Tybalt. What did the alchemist say was wrong with me? And why did my side hurt so much when I dropped back down just now?”

“You don’t remember how you got hurt?” the necromancer asked.

“I kind of remember. I got hit by a boulder while I was trying to protect you. But that shouldn’t have hurt me this much. I’ve had boulders dropped on me before.”

What the fuck are you made of? Steel?

Tybalt and Mariella exchanged a glance, and he shook his head, slightly wearier than a moment before. Don’t try to make sense of it, he wanted to say. Common sense doesn’t apply to her.

“Well, your aura stopped working this time,” Tybalt said. “Because you had salt fever; that’s what the alchemist called it. So the boulder broke a few ribs, and one of your ribs stabbed an organ. I fixed it with my powers, so it’s only natural you’d still be a bit sore…” His voice softened. “You really scared me there, you know? And I’m sure if you were in top shape, the boulder would have had as little effect on you as other… giant rocks you’ve been hit with.”

The catgirl muttered something to herself. Tybalt definitely heard the word “defective,” and he caught Dero frowning at whatever Kistana had said.

“Hey, you silly cat!” he said. She looked up at him. “If you hadn’t been standing there, I would have absolutely died. Don’t you dare call yourself defective! That’s like calling me defective, so it’s basically blasphemy!”

A little smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “My apologies, Lord Tybalt. I would hate to blaspheme in front of Your Holiness.”

“You need to start just calling me ‘Tybalt,’” he replied. “After you saved my life, you’ve at least earned that level of informality.”

An expression flickered across Kistana’s face as if she was going to argue, but then she gave him a small, tired nod. “Very well… Tybalt.” The words sounded unnatural coming from her lips, like she was trying to talk around a coin in her mouth or something.

“You might want to practice that, kitty,” Dero observed. “Try not to sound like it hurts to speak.”

“Unless it actually does,” said Victoria. “In that case, try not to talk more than you have to.”

“I have a better use for your mouth anyway,” Vidalia said.

Tybalt and Dero each gave her a look, which the foxgirl seemed to deliberately ignore. Kistana, for her part, didn’t appear to grasp the possible meanings of Vidalia’s words. She just tilted her head and watched as the foxgirl crossed the room to where she had left the family’s main food cauldron to keep warm over the fire.

“I made partridge noodle soup yesterday, and you didn’t wake up properly to eat it until now,” Vidalia said as she ladled some of the soup into a bowl. She turned back to face Kistana and then moved towards her. “This stuff is almost as good as medicine when you’re sick, and I promise, it doesn’t taste half as bad as actual medicine.” The foxgirl crouched next to the patient, placed a spoon into the bowl, and set it down beside the catgirl.

“I don’t know if I can actually- ” Kistana said as she tried to turn onto her side.

Vidalia put a gentle hand on her shoulder and shook her head, and the catgirl stopped trying to move.

“Don’t get up, I’ll feed you,” Vidalia said in a low voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kistana replied meekly.

The catgirl opened wide, and Vidalia started carefully spooning soup into her mouth. She at once looked happy to eat the soup - Tybalt could attest from personal experience to how tasty it was - and slightly mortified that everyone was watching.

“Let’s all have soup,” the necromancer said. “It’s been a long day, and we’re going to have longer and more difficult ones to come. We should eat well and sleep early tonight.” That seemed to break the spell. The others obligingly turned their attention toward getting some food. “Also, if someone could bring food out to the children, they’ve just been playing out there, and I can’t imagine they had anything since we left besides wild berries.”

“I’m on it!” exclaimed Victoria.

Mariella, who had opened her mouth at the same time as Victoria, added, “I’ll help!”

Tybalt gave them both a smile and then served himself, keeping one eye always on Vidalia and Kistana, even as he began consuming the foxgirl’s soup.

At first, the catgirl just enjoyed the food with a grateful expression, but then something seemed to click for her.

“Yesterday, you said?” she asked. “You made this, um, yesterday?”

“That’s right,” Vidalia said. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Kistana swallowed before she continued, “How long was I out?”

“Just yesterday.” The foxgirl spooned another mouthful of soup into the catgirl’s mouth as she seemed to be forming another question.

“Then… you made this for me?” Kistana asked in between bites, looking at Vidalia closely.

“I did,” the foxgirl replied in a matter of fact tone.

“That’s very kind of you. I, um, didn’t think you liked catfolk much.”

“I didn’t…”

“Um- ”

“But you’re our cat. You protected our darling when someone tried to kill him, and I… couldn’t do anything. And I do like you. I think you’re a very sweet girl. I never disliked you. Not really. I was just suspicious. Because of what the other catfolk are like. You… get it?”

Vidalia spoke her words steadily, but Tybalt noticed that she was having trouble holding eye contact with the catgirl. On the other hand, Kistana’s eyes were shining as if she was trying to hold back tears. Their minds were probably in completely different places, but he found the interaction very sweet.

“I get it,” Kistana said. “You know I have my disagreements with them…”

“That was the foundation of my beginning to trust you,” Vidalia agreed. “Now, enough mushy stuff. Darling is right there. You don’t want him to think you’ve gone soft, right? Bodyguards have to be tough.”

Kistana looked over to Tybalt, and he gave the two beastgirls a little wave.

More like Vidalia doesn’t want to get emotional, too.

“Plus, the sooner you eat and sleep, the sooner you get a bit stronger,” Vidalia continued. “I know you don’t want darling to be going around undefended, so you have to recover as quickly as you can without compromising your health.”

The catgirl nodded with conviction, and Tybalt suppressed a chuckle.

It seemed Vidalia knew how to manage the other girl already, better than he could.

I shouldn’t be surprised. It was much easier convincing Mariella to stay than I expected, after she spent time with Vidalia. She prepared Victoria for me for years, I’d bet. Vidalia wants everything to go well around me, and she doesn’t just hope for that. She rigs the game in my favor.

Outside, Tybalt heard voices raised in what sounded like surprise. A blending of the children’s voices and the women’s.

That’s interesting. What’s going on?

A knock came at the door.

“Hello, it’s me,” came a somewhat familiar male voice in a tone of uncertainty.

“Carlos!” Dero exclaimed. She had been sitting, quietly eating her own food, up until this point, but now she got to her feet and opened the door. Unlike most beastfolk homes Tybalt had seen, his hut had a rigid wooden door rather than a woven mat door.

Then the merchant stepped inside.

“Thank you, Dero,” he said, smiling. “Lord Tybalt, it’s good to see you. Vidalia and, um, Kistana?”

The catgirl nodded.

“Good to see you, Carlos,” Tybalt said, with a note of curiosity in his voice.

What are you doing here, though?

“You came to bring me more candy?” Vidalia asked, looking at the merchant’s pockets expectantly. “I knew you were holding out on me.”

“I actually came to bring something I know you love even more,” Carlos replied. “News of the world!”